Let the Rain
by broadwaybear
Summary: I read something the other day after which the author challenged readers to do an unusual Parental! fic. Here's mine: Parental!Riza/Ed. Ed finds Riza in a moment of vulnerability and seeks comfort for his own demons.


_AN: This is not a song fic, but it is song-inspired. I snuck a few lyrics into the piece, I'll give you a mind hug if you can find them. Bonus points if you know the artist/title._

Let the Rain

The Terror was there again, hiding in the shadows.

Riza Hawkeye was unsure when simple terror had become Terror; a real tangible thing able to hurt and destroy, but it had. And It controlled her with a practiced ease that made her wonder if Terror had always existed, everywhere. It surrounded her now, the deep, dark blackness overwhelmed her senses and blocked out the light of day that used to be with her, before… before…

It blocked out something else, too. It blocked out faces, faces of friends and allies, the only people she had left in the world. But It didn't block out the screams. _Their_ screams as Terror overtook them as well. She tried to break through the darkness, but found she couldn't. She struggled violently to save the little life she had left, but the Terror could not be fought against, It raged over her, under her, resisting all attempts to escape; until, finally, It had her completely entangled, so deeply ensnared she could never escape. But the screams didn't stop. Then the tears leaked down her face as she realized that no matter what she did she would never be able to get away from this monster, that her family was doomed and she could do for them.

Suddenly, Terror began to show her things. Things she never wanted to see again. The blood and the massacre. The things she had done and the people she had decimated, from the guerrilla fathers to their starved, horrified children. She had done that to all of them, had murdered them. Then, also, Terror showed her the people she knew and loved who she had killed. The friends she had not been there to protect, the people she had let down over her lifetime. Such a short lifetime nonetheless, but with so much bloodshed.

For the first time since this all began she opened her mouth and screamed.

The scream started as just that- a shriek of fear and frustration. But the sobs broke the screams power and choked her voice because the sadness, the endless pit of despair was there too and that was just one more thing Riza Hawkeye had failed to fight off. But the images continued, forcing her to see what a monster she was. Then the screams became words and fragments of words, blubbering out and not making sense between the wracking sobs. Then, finally, the words started to fall into some semblance of order and she begged for mercy, trying to remember that what had happened and had not all been her fault. As she thought of her commanding officers -who had never seen bloodshed but had still demanded it so unmercifully- her voice became stronger and she began to shout at Terror, trying to tell It what had really happened.

Terror didn't listen, It just held her in Its grip and made her watch. Because she could not be forgiven, she knew. Because no one was to blame but herself.

Edward Elric sat uncomfortably in his commander's office. He hated being here, but the really had no choice, if he was ever going to find the Philosopher's Stone he needed money and leads, which meant he had to be in the military. Who else would fund a crazy, disrespectful minor? Which also meant he had to file reports and follow whatever commands were given him by his superior officers. Namely, one Colonel Roy Mustang.

'Geez, I hate that guy.' Ed thought bitterly, as he sulked low in his seat on the couch. The Colonel had gone out nearly an hour ago, claiming he'd be back in a few minutes and to wait for him there. Ed would have left after the first fifteen minutes, but if he wanted to stay in the military he had to follow certain protocol, which meant he had to file paperwork, which meant he had to wait for his commanding officer to read and approve it before he could go on another assignment. 'A few minutes my ass.'

CRASH!

Ed jumped in his seat when he heard something hit the floor in the adjoining room outside. No one else was here, or so Ed thought. The rest of Mustang's team had gone home not long ago, stopping in just long enough to say goodbye to their favorite under-age alchemist. Ed quietly got up from his seat and began to cautiously enter the other room, searching for any possible threats. He opened the door -thanking whatever deity you care to mention that the Lieutenant kept everything so clean and well oiled- and peaked his head out into the dark room. Upon seeing no immediate threat he continued into the room, not bothering to turn on a light, and circled the table where Fuery, Breda and Fulman work, passing by Havoc's desk and silently padded around the room. He found the offending object as he came to the other side of the table; it was a small desk lamp, which had somehow crashed to the ground in front of the first Lieutenant's desk. Ed looked at it suspiciously for a moment. 'What could have-'

He was cut of mid-thought by a soft, distressed sigh issuing from behind the gigantic pile of paperwork on Lt. Hawkeye's desk. He peeked around and gave a start when he saw the Lieutenant herself lying there, arms beneath her head atop an open folder of paperwork. Ed smiled to himself, he should have known the loyal Lieutenant would stay until the Colonel got back from wherever it was he went. The child-prodigy's eyes narrowed as he realized the paperwork beneath her head was actually Mustang's. 'I can't believe he has someone else do his work!' he thought, outraged, 'I have to spend all that time on it, only for it to end up on Hawkeye's desk and not his!'

Ed rolled his eyes disrespectfully, 'How typical.'

He knelt down softly to retrieve her very broken lamp, he saw now where her hand had knocked it down off the desk in her sleep. He stopped mid-motion when he heard her moan under her breath. His cheeks immediately began to flush red, even with no one there to see, horrified of the kind of dream he may be listening in on; until he realized it was a moan of pain. He sat back on his knees and tried to get a good look at her in the bad lighting. Her eyes were crinkled in the corners and her brows were furrowed together, as if she were in pain. Her whole body seemed to twitch and shake like she was trying to fight some invisible monster.

It was then Ed realized she was having a nightmare. And a bad one at that. She looked so vulnerable and weak; not at all the fierce, often frightening sniper he knew. Suddenly, Ed felt an inexplicable guilt for watching her like this, even if it was an accident, and moved to touch her shoulder and try to wake her.

He froze suddenly when she began to speak, thinking for a moment she was awake and about to scold him. Then her mumbled words began to make sense and the guilt that weighed upon him before sank deep into the pit of his stomach like his automail sinking in a pond, but now he was too involved to wake her and pretend it never happened. He listened instead, trying to make out what she was saying.

At first all he could make out were incoherent words and broken phrases, "no" and "stop" being the most common, but nothing solid, nothing that would tell him what was going on in her head. The tortured look on her face became more pronounced and her words became more pleading, "please" and "never again" now becoming most prominent. Suddenly, she began to thrash in her sleep and Ed jumped back as if scalded.

"Let me go, let me go! This is not my choice!" she yelled, almost at the top of her voice. Ed grabbed her flailing arms and started to shake her awake, screaming her name and trying desperately to make it all stop; to take back the last five minutes.

Suddenly, everything changed and the pictures disappeared and Terror began to throw her around. She felt her face hit something solid and the shock jolted her into half-awareness. Where was she? The camp, of course. Where the Ishbalan guerillas attacking? Who was screaming her name? Roy. Where was Roy? Someone was attacking her; someone was attacking the camp. 'My gun,' she thought, 'I need my gun.'

The lethargy of sleep slowly left her limbs and, still not fully aware of her surroundings, she shoved off her attacker and grabbed her gun from it's holster at her side. She aimed and was almost pulling the trigger when reality finally slammed into her like a brick wall.

The war had been over for years. She was safe in Head Quarters, staying late to wait for the Colonel and finish pre-reading his reports. She must have fallen asleep at her desk. No one was attacking her. But the worst reality of all: she had her gun trained perfectly for a kill shot.

A kill shot aimed at Edward Elric.

He lay on the ground before her, fear showing openly on his face, tears starting to form in his overly-exhausted eyes, his breath coming in great, heaving gasps. Riza sucked in a shocked breath and pulled her gun away from him, turning the safety on and replacing it back in its holster. She got up quickly from her place behind the desk to where Ed was on the floor. He'd curled into a remarkably small ball, holding his knees to his chest. Riza paused for one moment of hesitance. But hesitance was something they beat out of you in boot camp and, running on pure instinct, she collapsed beside him, scooping the young boy into her arms.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her shirt front and she was confused for a moment, wondering what on earth he could mean, then he continued, tears starting to soak her clean jacket, "I shouldn't have listened. I didn't mean to, I promise. I just- I just-"

He continued to sob apologies to her, but she froze as realization of the situation struck her. The nightmare. He had watched her have one of her nightmares, and if his words were any indication, she had been talking in her sleep. She resisted the urge to swear. The last thing this poor child needed was to get caught up in her personal demons.

"Shhh, Edward. It's alright." she whispered as soothingly as possible. "You're forgiven, I'm not mad."

"You swear?" he whispered, looking straight up into her eyes. For a moment he looked so young it was all she could do not curse Roy for getting him involved in all of this. The military. He was still a child! But then she felt the weight of his automail limbs and she was reminded that he was here of his own volition, he wanted a part of this cursed existence.

"I swear." she whispered back, trying not to start crying herself. And he tucked his head back against her side and she just held him for a few moments. She wondered how often in the last few years he had wanted this. Someone to hold him. She had wanted it her entire childhood and she had never even experienced it in the first place. To someone who'd had such a loving mother, losing that comfort must have been unbearable.

She thought of Alphonse, losing his mother even younger, being practically raised by his brother. She knew how much they'd already given, that they had learned their lesson and beyond. But she wondered what they would still be willing to sacrifice to have that love and support once again. 'Great,' she thought, 'Now I'm starting to cry.'

And she was, the wetness already beginning to trickle silently down her face. Ed didn't notice though, he just clung to her, so hard she wondered if he had, for a moment, forgotten where he was and traveled back to some better time, thinking it was his own mother holding him and not some bitter, scarred army Lieutenant. If he was, she would never begrudge him the comfort. She would stand in for him as long as the boy needed her. For a moment she wondered if she would ever have children of her own, if she would even live that long. But she disregarded that line of thought quickly, because she knew she would only bear the children of one man, and that was far too complicated a thought for this moment.

"Lieutenant?" Ed asked, breaking the quiet, still sounding unbearably young.

"Yes?" she responded carefully, hoping she would be able to answer whatever he asked honestly.

"H-how long have you had nightmares?" He spoke, practically under his breath, but the room around them was so quiet Riza had no problem hearing. She let out a tense breath and stared off into the distance at something Ed could not see, eyes slightly glazed over and lost in a memory of times long past.

"Since my first week of war. In Ishbal. After my first battle." She answered him truthfully, even if her voice was a little detached.

"Do you- do you think they'll ever go away?" he asked again, as if scared of the answer. Riza didn't noticed, still lost in her own memories.

"No." Still honest, still detached, still distant.

The boy's only response was a sharp intake of breathe and Riza looked down, suddenly back in the present, remembering who it was she spoke with. He had screwed his eyes shut, almost in pain.

With a start, Riza realized _he _had nightmares. He wanted to know if there was any hope for him and she had just told him no. She had been too lost in her past to even remember the needs of the child-soldier clinging to her like she was his last lifeline. 'I'll never be a mother,' she thought with more than a hint of regret, 'I'm too wrapped up in my own world now.'

Ed blinked suddenly and wiped his eyes. He stood up a little too quickly, practically running from her grasp, and almost fell into the desk behind them. He rubbed his face vigorously with his good hand, trying to clear it of all traces of tears. When he spoke his voice was more put-together, it seemed older than his previous sobs, but now that she'd heard it, she recognized the child's voice behind the mask of bravery and insolence. "Sorry for crying all over you, Lieutenant. I'll leave you alone now."

A blush started to take over his face and he turned, clearly embarrassed by his show of emotion. Riza Hawkeye would have none of it. She'd sacrificed her whole childhood by refusing to cry over her mother's death, by refusing to express any of her emotions for fear of distracting her father. She got up after him and grabbed his automail hand, nearly flinching at the surprisingly intense cold. "Edward." she said, then added a little force when he still tried to get out of her grip. "Edward Elric." He stopped and turned, hearing the seriousness in her voice. She looked at him without a drop of pity; only understanding and compassion. "It's okay to cry."

He seemed slightly taken aback by her words and, when he had relaxed in her grip, she let him go. He stood there patiently, waiting for her to continue. "Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it doesn't. But it is _never_ something to be ashamed of. You have to let the rain come down before you can hear anything over the thunder."

He waited a moment, contemplating her words, then seemed to realize she wasn't going to say anything else. He nodded and smiled, catching her slightly off guard. "Sorry I ruined your shirt, ma'am."

Riza looked down, surprised to find that it was, indeed, stained with salt water. She shook her head. "Don't worry. I have plenty more." She looked down at him, favoring him with a gentle smile, "Go find your brother and get some sleep. I'll take care of the paperwork with Mustang."

"Thank you." Was all he said in response, then he took off out off the room, a streak of bright, shining red in the darkness. But it was truthful and as he left some of her worry was alleviated. But she knew as long as he was involved with the military he would never truly be safe. She smiled sadly behind him, wondering how such a good kid had ended up living in such a twisted world. 'I may never have children of my own,' she thought, 'But I can sure as hell watch out for the kid's that are in front of me now.'

Then she turned away from the door and set about fixing the lamp back on her desk, ready to get back to work. Colonel Mustang would just have to live with not torturing the Fullmetal Alchemist one more night.

As Ed flew out of the building an odd expression found it's way onto his face. He seemed to be stuck somewhere between crying and smiling. Nightmares like that were just part of life for a soldier, but if it got Al's body back he'd endure a thousand sleepless nights. Riza Hawkeye was yet another reason to smile, she was an unexpected solace in his chosen world of cold formality and harsh discipline. 'For such a tough, terrifying woman,' he thought, 'she'll make a wonderful mother someday.'


End file.
